


Antivirus

by TARDISTraveller42



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Angst, Crew as Family, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Healing, Holding Hands, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, Medical Procedures, Platonic Relationships, Sickfic, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:26:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25296142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TARDISTraveller42/pseuds/TARDISTraveller42
Summary: When Data is infected with a virus from an alien computer, Geordi and the rest of the crew are against the clock. Can they save our favorite android before it is too late?
Relationships: Crew of the Starship Enterprise & Data, Data & Geordi La Forge
Comments: 13
Kudos: 79





	1. Chapter One

The ship was a mess. Not the Enterprise, of course. Geordi would never allow her to come into disrepair. It was this anonymous alien craft, drifting in an empty region of space, that was a disaster. Dust lined every surface, while wires ran to and fro with no reasonable beginning nor end. Even the basic layout of the ship was unsightly; corridors winded and twisted like a giant maze. 

“I can’t make heads or tails of it,” Geordi admitted, craning his neck upward and around to form a holistic image with his VISOR. Chemical readings glowed in reds and blues. A few spots of white dotted the scene. The chemical elements weren't out of the ordinary, but the way they interwove with one another certainly was. It was like a patchwork ship made of iron and steel, filled with ancient compounds that Starfleet had abandoned years ago.

“Data?” Riker turned to the Lieutenant Commander to his right, who’s head kept tilting curiously as they passed through the ship’s main corridor. “Anything?”

“Not as yet, Commander.”

“Okay,” Riker breathed. He guided their little trio - Data, Geordi, and himself - to a stop in the middle of the hallway. “Let’s split up. Geordi, head straight ahead. Try and find main engineering. There’s gotta be something powering this ship. Data, check out the computers. I’ll go see if anyone’s home on the bridge.”

“Aye, sir,” Geordi said quietly. He was a little anxious about going off by himself in this strange place. But years of Starfleet training had more than prepared him for a walk through cobwebs and churning machinery.

. . . . . . . . . 

“Well, nobody’s watching the bridge,” said Riker, stepping carefully over a jagged piece of metal and into the large room that Data and Geordi had found. “Is this engineering?”

“Or the closest thing to it,” Geordi replied with a shrug. “Data’s doing a deeper look into the computer systems. But I’m not seeing anything useful. It looks like they ran out of fuel a long time ago.”

Riker nodded, gazing around the room again. 

It was a large space; the biggest room on the whole ship. Computer desks took up the center of the room, connected to each other through thick bundles of wire. A large hunk of metal glared from the back wall. It was quiet, especially for a space so large and with so many computers and machinery. 

Every room on this ship was too quiet.

“We’ll wait until Data’s done with the computers, and then we’ll head back,” Riker said, setting his hands on his hips. “To be honest, this place is giving me the creeps.”

“Me too, Commander.”

Geordi opened what appeared to be the hatch of the ship’s fuel cell. Although, upon looking inside, it could have been anything. Namely, there was nothing on the inside. Just a big open cavity. It looked like a large, old-style oven, only without coal or bricks. Not even his VISOR picked anything up. It was just...empty.

With a frown, Geordi shut the hatch and stood back up again. He had called this room ‘engineering’, but it didn’t look anything like the Enterprise’s engineering room. No whirring machines, no beeping computers. No people.

Geordi shivered, probably from a sudden gust of wind from the vents. At least they had air in here. Although since the ship had no crew, that thought made Geordi more nervous than grateful. Were there ghosts in here? Ghosts who needed gravity and fresh oxygen?

Pushing these thoughts out of his head, Geordi closed the gap between himself and Data.

“How’s it coming?”

Data didn’t respond. His eyes were glued to the screen in front of him. A conduit connected him from the a port in his head into the main computer, the only piece of machinery actually functioning on this dead ship. 

Geordi had seen Data connect to computers many times before. They were always running diagnostics on the Enterprise; always peeling back the bioplast on his head so they could plug him into something. But today, the sight of it made him...unsettled. Much more unsettled than usual. Maybe it was the atmosphere. Maybe it was the alien ship. Maybe it was Data’s silence; a rare thing indeed.

“Data?” Geordi tried again. He bent over until his head was just beside Data’s. When Data didn’t even blink, Geordi smiled. “Learn something interesting?”

The computer screen revealed nothing to Geordi; the text whizzed by much too fast for him to read. He turned to Will, who was staring up at the ‘fuel cell’ Geordi had been studying.

“Er, Commander? I think Data found something.” 

He leaned back down to Data, looking him over again. His body was held at almost perfect ninety degree angles at his knees, his back, his arms. That was normal for Data. The worrying thing was his lack of a response. He was usually very vocal, especially around Geordi. And his eyes, though always a bit different than a human’s, were never so unblinking. It was like there was a film covering the irises, the way that they just stared at the computer screen.

Geordi was about to voice his concerns when Riker’s hand landed on his shoulder, his foot braced on the platform that held the computer. 

“What’d you find, Data?” Riker asked excitedly.

Geordi gave him a frown. The look on Riker’s face was so hopeful; like a kid waiting for a Christmas gift. But Geordi’s mind had entered such a dark place that Will’s smile made him feel even worse.

“Commander, I don’t think Data’s hearing us.”

“What?” Riker’s head whipped down. Within an instant, his expression turned from enthusiasm to dread. “Data?”

Data wasn't stirred by Will's hand on his shoulder. Nor by Geordi’s hand, waved in front of his face. Now that he thought about it, Geordi hadn’t seen Data blink this entire time. That wasn’t normal; they had recalibrated his blinking just last week. 

“Commander, something’s wrong,” Geordi said. He was starting to really, really worry. His own eyes stared, not at the computer screen like Data’s, but at Data himself. 

What the hell happened? Why wasn’t he responding? What was wrong with this damn ship?

“I agree.” Will straightened himself up and turned on his ‘commander’ attitude. “Geordi, can you get him disconnected?”

“On it.”

Geordi turned off the computer first. To be extra careful, he unplugged the whole thing. When the screen was black and the electricity stopped humming, he knelt at Data’s side and began disconnecting him. He’d done this type of thing so many times over the years he could probably do it in his sleep. But for just this once, he made himself slow down. One wire removed, then another. Careful, nimble fingers reached in and slid the conduit out of its socket. He took great care to make sure it didn’t bump anything on the way out; the kind of attention that an anxious first year Cadet might use to get full marks on an exam. 

With the conduit set aside, Geordi clicked the portion of Data’s headpiece back into place. It was a breath of fresh air to see his friend back to ‘normal’ again. Normal looking, at least. No wires exposed, no connections to strange, suspicious computers. Geordi smoothed down Data's hair, to make him look even more like himself.

But Data was not yet back to himself. He was still staring; still stiff; still...lifeless.

“Data?” Geordi said. He placed a hand on Data’s thigh, just above his knee. “Data, can you hear me?”

Data did not respond. 

And a moment later, his body tilted off of his chair.

The suddenness of it was like a puppet whose strings have been cut. The chair slid out from under him, and then he was plummeting down toward Riker.

“Woah!” Riker gasped, as his arms struggled to catch Data’s heavy weight. He stumbled onto his knees, crashing with Data in a messy attempt to help him to the floor.

Geordi shoved the chair out of the way and crawled over to them. As Will carefully rolled Data off of himself, Geordi prayed.

Prayed to a God he didn’t know existed. Prayed to Dr. Soong; maybe he’d installed some kind of software that could help them with whatever was going on? Prayed to Data, to wake up and stop all of this.

Geordi set a hand on each side of Data’s jaw. 

"Data!" He called, tapping his fingers on Data's pale, unmoving face. "Data!"

All of his tapping and smacking and hollering had no effect. Golden eyes stared up at him. Lifeless golden eyes that were usually so expressive. The sight of them made Geordi want to tear the VISOR from himself; block the image from his mind.

Will leaned over from the opposite side. He squeezed both of Data’s sleeves until his knuckles turned white. When that didn’t work, he shook him by the shoulders. That, too, had no effect other than to slosh his body from side to side.

“Data; can you hear me?” Asked Riker.

No response. 

Will and Geordi turned up to one another. They shared a look, then; a chief engineer and a first commander both out of their depths. It was a moment of shared comradery; they were in this together. Whatever ‘this’ was.

And then that moment ended.

Between them, Data suddenly started convulsing. First his chest heaved. It lifted his body an inch off of the floor, and then slammed it back down again as the synthetic muscles relaxed. The next convulsion spread to his shoulders; thighs. The third extended yet further, to his hands and feet. 

Within a few seconds, Data was shaking uncontrollably. His feet pounded against the floor in a syncopated beat. And those golden eyes...they rolled in his head like he wasn't in control of them anymore. He looked like he was being possessed, or overwritten. Like some horrible puppeteer had taken him over.

“Dammit,” Will grunted. He stared at Data, horrified, for just a short moment before deciding on his next course of action. He handed Geordi his Comm badge and then pulled off his own uniform shirt. In a blur of motion, he set the red bundle of fabric beneath Data’s head to create a barrier between it and the hard metal floor.

When Will was sitting back on his haunches, Geordi patted him on the back. It was all he could do; all his brain knew to do right now, as he watched his best friend convulse on the floor in front of him. He wanted to cry. He wanted to force himself to wake up from this absolute nightmare of a day. But all he could do was hold onto Will’s shoulder and stare at Data. Feel the warm fabric of Will’s black T-shirt beneath his fingers, and watch Data’s eyelids flutter shut.

It was painful to watch. Painful to listen to Data’s boots pounding arhythmically against the floor. But it was impossible to look away from. Geordi couldn’t let Data suffer without a witness. He had to be there, suffering with him. Feel his heart breaking for him. 

Beside him, Will broke out of his own horrified daze. He took his Comm badge back from Geordi’s shaky hold and pressed it with both thumbs.

“Riker to Enterprise,” he said in a voice full of feigned control. “Three to beam directly to sickbay.”

. . . . . . . . . . 

As soon as they landed in sickbay, Geordi locked his vision back on Data. The convulsions still rocked through his body, but they were slowly becoming more spaced apart; more gentle (if anything so terrible to watch could be called gentle). He was glad that Data’s eyelids were closed now, at least. Seeing those golden eyes as lifeless as they had been was the worst feeling of all.

That being said, Geordi was not yet okay. Not even close to okay. He barely registered Dr. Crusher’s shadow, and didn’t see her until she was crouched between himself and Data. 

“What happened?” Beverly questioned abruptly. Her own voice had a lot more power than Will’s or Geordi’s. Her movements, too, seemed full of an energy and speed that Geordi couldn’t remember ever possessing, stuck as he was in this trance-like state. 

Her medical tricorder whirred from foot to forehead of Data’s body. As it took in more and more information, Beverly’s face set in a deep frown. 

“Geordi, what happened?” she repeated more urgently.

It was only now that he realized he hadn’t answered her.

“H-he was connected to a computer,” Geordi stammered. “At some point he went unresponsive and then…”

“How long has the seizure lasted?”

Geordi felt a shiver at the word ‘seizure’ in relation to Data. He wasn’t supposed to be prone to human ailments. He wasn’t supposed to be injured. He was supposed to be invincible.

“It’s been about three minutes. I think," Will answered for him.

Beverly sat back, passing her tricorder from hand to hand. Her own eyes started to stare; realizing, Geordi assumed, that this was Lieutenant Commander Data on the floor of her sickbay. Not a stranger. Not a new crewmember. One of her best friends.

But Dr. Crusher was not one to fall victim to her emotions; not when there was work to do. She straightened her back and put her tricorder in the pocket of her blue medical coat.

“We’ll wait until the seizure stops completely, and then get him on a biobed,” she said clearly and concisely. 

At least someone in the room still had their calm and collected Starfleet-trained mind. 

The next minutes seemed to last forever. Geordi spent the whole time staring, his arms crossed over his crossed legs; an unconscious bid to give his friend all of the luck in the world. Beside him, Will was doing roughly the same. 

Beverly and her staff were a bit more active. 

Strike that, they were heroes. 

While Geordi ran circles in his mind, Beverly's team found a grav-sled, set up monitors, calibrated their tricorders. Their bodies danced around Sickbay like they were a part of a well-rehearsed performance. A nurse this way, passing exactly the right tool to the doctor over here. Then a monitor was slid across the scene, somehow avoiding everyone who was moving in front of it.

When Beverly spared a moment to pull him off of the floor and guide him over to a chair, Geordi murmured, “I don’t know how you do it, Bev."

“It’s my job,” she said with a kind smile. When Geordi was sat down, shaking like a leaf, she knelt in front of him. “We’ll get him up on the bed, and then you and I can figure out what’s wrong, okay? Just take a moment to breathe.”

Geordi followed her advice. But as he tried to focus on one breath and then another, he felt like he wasn’t doing enough. Beverly was over there giving commands, setting up IV poles, and monitoring Data’s condition all at once. Even Will was sending a message out to Captain Picard; something useful. 

He was a chief engineer. He was a Starfleet officer. That meant he was supposed to be able to handle situations like this. 

But even as he thought these painful thoughts about himself, he tried to look at his situation objectively. He really was exhausted. His heart really was pounding. And his eyes really were stuck staring at his best friend.

Staring at Data.

He watched the convulsions stop, until Data was still once more. Too still. Lifelessly still.

He watched Beverly crouch beside him, running her tricorder over his body once more. For a short moment, she simply stroked his hair back. Let her eyes betray her worry, as she gazed at his too-pale face; his unbreathing chest. The tender scene ended as abruptly as it had started; a command to her medical staff and Dr. Crusher was back to work.

He watched them maneuver Data onto the grav-sled; strapped in tight so he wouldn’t fall. 

He watched all of this knowing that it was Data who he was staring at. Data, who had been fine half an hour ago. Data, who he had shared a breakfast burrito with this morning. 

Data, lying on the biobed with his vital signs glaring from the monitors.

“Geordi?” Beverly called.

Geordi shook his head out and forced himself to focus. 

Shaky legs got him to his feet, and somehow carried him to the side of the bed opposite to Beverly. It was a little easier to look at Data now. Now that he wasn’t convulsing. Now that he was in a bed, and could just be sleeping.

“What could have caused this?” Beverly said, looking to Geordi for assistance.

He bit his lip as he shook his head. And then, realizing this wasn’t good enough, he closed his eyes.

Focus. Use your VISOR. Be the hero that he needs you to be right now. Be the hero that Beverly is.

Geordi inspected him visually first. The surface, one layer down, two layers down; all the way to the inner workings of his positronic brain. Thankfully his VISOR could do this without trouble. He would have hated to have to open up Data’s head right now; risk even more damage than whatever was wrong with him.

When he’d taken every note he could, he switched to a thermo-scan. Then a coding scan, reaching into the deepest levels of Data’s inner workings.

“There’s some code in here that’s been added,” Geordi said, leaning closer. His fingertips settled on Data’s cheek as he tilted his head to get a better view of his positronic net. The bioplast skin was warmer than usual, but it was nice to touch. Good to be able to feel him again and to have some kind of physical connection. “It looks like a virus of some kind.”

Beverly’s eyes lit up at the diagnosis. 

“A virus,” she repeated to herself, stepping closer.

“Probably to keep people from learning about the ship, for whatever reason.” Geordi found that he couldn’t care less about why the empty ship was so well protected right now. He only cared about fixing Data. “I’m gonna have to write some antivirus software. It could take a while.”

Geordi ran a hand through his hair, his breath quickening. Oh God, code could take forever to write. And he would have to test it before he installed it, lest he risk doing even more harm to Data’s fragile systems. 

Beverly seemed to notice his panic immediately. She glanced to the door and motioned for someone to come closer: Will.

“What do you need me to do?” Will asked. He seemed to have recovered from their experience on the ship. Or at least he was better at hiding his anxiety than Geordi was.

“I’m gonna need to run down to engineering,” Geordi said. He ran his VISOR over Data’s brain once again, making sure it had read the entire virus code. “And while I’m down there, I’m gonna need you and Dr. Crusher to keep Data stable.” He paused, stuck staring at Data’s closed eyes. “I...I have no idea what this virus is gonna do to him, and...I don’t…”

“We’ll look after him,” Will promised.

Geordi breathed out. Looked at Will; Beverly; Data, once more. Just in case. 

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Geordi gave himself one second to stare at Data again. He looked so small in that bed. Geordi had never used the word 'fragile' to describe Data, but right now that's all he could think of. 

Geordi had to force himself to leave the bedside. But once he had gotten over that hurdle, he was off and running down the hallway. He would need a miracle, to pull this off. But that’s what they did at Starfleet, right? Beat the odds. Save the day.

Today they didn’t even have a whole planet to save, just one person. One person who was worth planets to Geordi; to many on the Enterprise. One person who needed to beat the odds.

And if anyone could beat the odds, Geordi knew it would be Data. All he had to do was help him along the way. And so, he kept running; and he didn’t stop running until he was deep into the engineering department.


	2. Chapter Two

Sickbay was rather hectic after Geordi had left. Will found it hard to pick one thing to focus on, there was so much activity. The nurses were prepping Data for whatever treatment Beverly had in store, cutting off his uniform shirt and carefully stowing his Comm badge on the bedside table. Meanwhile, Beverly was making a plan of attack. She paced back and forth across the room, dividing a series of tasks between the members of her medical staff. Every now and then she would come back to the bed. PADD in hand, she would glance over to Will; watch the monitors, make a few notes. Then she’d disappear again, off to a different corner of the large room.

Once everything finally calmed down, Will stood back up. His head swam at the movement; too many minutes in this state of panic. He pushed the feeling down and leaned on the bed for support. 

Right now, he had to be a commander. When Data was alright, he could worry about himself.

“Is there anything I can do?” he asked, righting himself and adjusting his T-shirt.

Beverly looked over from the monitor she was checking. Her eyes shined in sympathy; he probably looked a mess right now. But then she seemed to realize that he needed to do something. He needed to help.

“The virus has been affecting the electrical impulses that control his musculature. I mean, and a lot of other things.” Beverly shut her eyes; shook her head. Started again, “I’m going to connect wires to his arm that should counteract the virus’ effect on his synthetic muscles, at least temporarily.”

“Okay,” Will said, nodding. He didn’t fully understand Data’s systems, but he trusted Beverly’s judgment as much as Geordi’s in these matters. “What can I do to help?”

“When I’ve connected the wire, I’ll pass it to you and you can plug it in right here” She pointed to one of the ports on the closest monitor. “If the monitor starts to go haywire, unplug it immediately. If the monitor drops to zero, then we’re in business.”

“Got it.” 

Will stood at his station and waited for Beverly’s signal. It was difficult to watch her work. As soon as she opened the panel on the underside of Data’s arm, he wanted to be sick. He’d never gotten used to seeing his machinery; the metal and the glistening lights that made up his inner workings. It wasn’t that he didn’t accept that Data was an android; that was something he had come to love about his friend. It was that he hated to treat Data like an android. If he were a human, Will would not be watching their arm opened up like that. He would, rightfully, turn away. 

So Will turned away, to the monitor, and waited for Beverly’s “Okay, plug it in.”

As soon as the wire was in place, the monitor dipped down to zero. 

Will let out a breath; zero was a good sign. Zero meant it was doing its job. 

“It looks okay so far,” he said.

Beverly breathed out a sigh of relief. She let herself relax for only a moment; shoulders sagging, neck craned up to the ceiling for a short stretch. Then she opened her eyes again and got back to work.

“Okay, now we’re just going to do that two more times.”

“On it,” Will said with a nod.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

The next time Will found himself sitting at his bedside vigil, Data looked a bit of a mess. His left arm now had three wires connecting him to the monitor above; red, blue, and green respectively. Beverly had also attached two electrodes to the right side of his upper chest. That made five wires connecting him to two different monitors, each of which added to Will’s own anxieties.

He breathed for a moment. Beverly did, too. One short moment, while everything was alright. 

And then one of the machines started going on the blink again. This time, apparently, it was the temperature monitor.

“Will, we’re gonna need some coolant,” Beverly said, jumping to her feet. “His respiratory system isn’t working and it’s throwing his thermoregulation off.”

Will nodded, eager to take on the menial job. His whole body was thrumming, unable to sit still. It seemed like the more they fixed, the more went wrong. Data’s body was failing, and they needed to get him a cure fast or else-

The coolant was replicated, and Will had to get back to work before he finished that thought.

“Thank you,” Beverly breathed, taking the coolant from Will. 

She attached the bag to the IV pole and then turned down to Data.

“This one will go into his hand.”

“Do you need me to do anything?”

“When it’s connected,” Beverly said, “flip on the IV switch.”

They swapped places, Will standing closer to the wall with all of the machines. Again he found it difficult to watch Beverly work. At least this time she didn’t have to open any of Data’s ports. The thin tubing slid into his hand, as it would into a human vein. A wide piece of tape held it in place.

Will watched her work with more admiration than ever. He’d always known how incredible she was. She’d saved all of their lives a countless number of times. But he didn’t always appreciate just how exhausting her work must be, jumping from issue to issue, knowing everything could go wrong in a split second. And his life was like that too, yes; everyone at Starfleet had a life like that. But in Beverly’s line of work, the people she was tasked with saving were right there; under her hands. And many of them were her closest friends.

“Bev...you’re amazing,” Will said, as Beverly took a well-earned rest to sit on the chair on the other side of the bed.

She gave him a blink-and-you-miss-it smile, and then put her doctor face back on.

“Can you ask Geordi how long he thinks he’ll be?”

“On it.”

. . . . . . . . . . .

“Data,” Will murmured, setting his hand on the side of Data’s head. His elbow brushed against a few of the wires connected to Data’s arm. He tried very hard to ignore them. But touching them sent a shiver down his own arm like an electrical spark. 

This whole thing just felt so incredibly wrong. He was the Commanding Officer. He shouldn’t have let one of his crewmembers be hurt; not like this. Dammit, Will hated seeing anyone like this. But Data? Sweet, innocent, hardworking, ever-curious Data? It was like seeing a child injured. It just wasn’t meant to happen. It wasn’t right, and it wasn’t fair.

And God, it was like a punch to the gut.

“You’ve gotta pull through this,” Will continued. He lowered his voice so that only Data could hear him. If he could hear him, that was. Which didn’t seem likely since his eyes were closed and his brain activity was shockingly low. The only thing keeping him alive seemed to be the multicolored wires Beverly had installed, connecting him to all sorts of coolants and monitors; temperature gauges and muscular stimulators. 

“Don’t let some computer on an abandoned ship...that can’t....” Will broke off, and then drew in a fresh breath. “That can’t be the end of you. You’re too special for that.”

Will could almost hear what Data’s response would have been. Probably something like ‘each organism is unique, so in actuality, I am no more or less special than any other being’. 

The truth was that Data was more unique than the rest of them. He was more special. 

“I don’t think we could handle it,” Will admitted, shaking his head. 

Will sat back and took another breath. A few tears had found their way into his eyes, and he let them stay there. But he did not let them fall. No; there was only one event in which he would allow himself to cry today and he could not even think about that possibility.

Data would make it. Because Data had to make it.

“Will?” Beverly said, appearing suddenly at his side. She brushed her hand up and down his back, apparently unfooled by his steely composure. “How’s he doing?”

Will knew very well that she was asking about himself as much as she was asking about Data. But they both knew that Will wouldn’t focus on himself today. Not while he had an officer still in danger.

“He’s been stable. But we’re going to have to replace his coolant soon. His temperatures starting to climb again.”

Beverly frowned and then forced a smile in his direction. “By the time we’re done here, you’re gonna be able to read all of my monitors.”

Will forced a smile, too. 

“Maybe I’ll spend some of my volunteer hours in here for once,” he said.

They shared a knowing look. A look that meant Will wasn’t going to step foot in here until he was dragged in by their next disaster.


	3. Chapter Three

When Geordi returned to sickbay, huffing and puffing and absolutely sprinting with the newly replicated antivirus software clenched in his fist, he found a sight that had him running even harder. The monitors by Data’s bed were furious; beeping their shrill cry without end. A nurse dashed in front of him, nearly colliding, as he carried a bag of replacement coolant over to the IV pole. Meanwhile, Beverly was attaching a fifth wire into the exposed rotator cuff of Data’s arm.

“Geordi’s here!” Will cried. He was sat on the very edge of his chair, holding Data’s hand in both of his own. His eyes were wide; plagued with exhaustion and terror. 

“Geordi, he needs that antivirus software now,” Beverly commanded. “All of his major systems are going offline; I can’t reroute the damage any more.”

“I’ve got it,” Geordi said. He tried to make himself calm, because it seemed everyone else was at their wit’s end. They had worked hard and kept his best friend alive this long. Now he just had to make sure their work wasn’t in vain.

“Do you need me to move?” Will asked.

“No. Keep holding his hand. I’ll need him to be calm when he starts to come back online.”

Geordi switched out places with Beverly, giving her a much needed break. He tried to ignore the multiple wires connecting Data to the machines; through his hand, his arm, his chest. He tried to ignore the sounds of the machines telling him that his best friend was crashing. He tried to ignore the blank expression on Data’s face; the exaggerated paleness, the breathless lips. 

“Stay with me, buddy,” Geordi whispered, reaching a hand up to unlatch the right side of Data’s head unit. He ran his fingertips across his scalp; stroked the hair above his ear. “Just for a little bit longer.”

Geordi worked fast; faster than he ever had before. He didn’t let himself think about Beverly, chewing her nails raw at the side of the room. Didn’t think about Will, holding Data’s hand so tightly the bioplast was starting to crack. Didn’t think about the nurses watching him; watching the commanding officer they all loved the most lie this close to death.

“Stay with us.”

The software was easy to install, really. All Geordi had to do was connect it to the right point in Data’s brain. The trouble was keeping his nerve after the connection was made. Keep hope alive, when the monitors continued their cries. Hope that he had perfected the coding. Hope all those hours spent with machines instead of people paid off today. Hope he didn’t cause more problems, with a faulty code or a mixed signal or a short circuit or-

One machine quieted. Then another. Then more. Blaring sirens turned to rapid beeps turned to soft hums. Operations coming back to normal. 

An android coming back to life.

“Data?” Will asked. He squeezed Data’s hand tighter still. When Data didn’t respond, he turned a sheepish look up to Geordi and Beverly. “I thought I felt something.”

They stared again; it felt like they’d been staring at Data all day. They could have heard a pin drop, the room was so quiet and their ears were so focused. The moment carried on for forever. And then…

Will gasped. He’d felt something that time; he was sure of it. Just a tiny squeeze of his hand; two fingers wrapping around his own.

“Is he…?” With three steps, Beverly was at the foot of the bed. Her crossed arms betrayed the anxieties she had been feeling for the past hours; ever since the trio beamed onto the sickbay floor. “Is he waking up?”

Geordi caught movement at last: Data’s head shifting 2.4 degrees to the left. He instantly jumped over to Data’s head; set one hand on either side of his face so that he couldn’t move. There were still so many wires connected, plus the antivirus software plugged into very specific points of his brain.

“Stay still, Data,” Geordi said. He smiled at the fact that he was talking to Data; that Data could hear him. That Data was alive.

“Geo-” Data breathed; a single syllable from the back of his throat. He didn’t even try to finish the name, just tried the same syllable again; “Geo-”

“Shh,” Will murmured. “It’s alright, Data. Stay calm.”

Geordi was glad Will was listening to his advice so well; to keep Data calm. Personally, he was fighting the urge to shake Data awake. Pull him into a hug and refuse to let go. Cry out in an excited shout because his best friend was back.

He resisted, of course. His fingers pressed firmly on either side of Data’s head to keep him still between his hands.

When Data’s eyes snapped open, they were wider than usual. More scared than usual. But that meant that they weren’t lifeless, like before. And that was all it took for Geordi to breathe a sigh of relief.

Will shifted, so that Data could see him more easily. 

“You’re in sickbay,” he explained. His thumb traced a soothing pattern along the back of Data’s hand. “The antivirus is still doing its job, so you have to keep still.”

Data’s eyes held Will’s. And then his breathing suddenly came back online. His chest heaved at the sudden jolt of air into his synthetic lungs. Wide eyes stared up at Will, as if he were confused at the feeling of oxygen entering his body. His breaths were quick; almost quick enough to send the monitors blaring again.

Beverly jumped in to assist. She set a firm hand on his sternum; held him down with all of her power.

“It’s alright,” she murmured, in a soft tone she usually reserved for Wesley. “Data, look at me. It’s alright.”

His frantic eyes turned to her sharply. Blinked twice. And then, finally, he started to calm down. Over the next minute his breathing slowed, as the doctor, the engineer, and the commander hovered over him with murmured comforts. And for that minute, the rest of the world didn’t exist; it was only the four of them and this bed and the quiet whir of the machines above.

Beverly raised her hand first, letting go of Data’s chest. When he didn’t move for a full ten seconds, she turned to the monitors.

“Most of your systems are back online. I think we can start disconnecting some of these,” she added, gesturing to the five wires in his arm.

Will shifted his seat to give her more room to work. She disconnected the red wire from the monitor, and then leaned over Data’s exposed arm. 

As soon as she pulled the wire out of his arm, Will felt Data squeeze his hand. It wasn’t from pain, since he had no pain receptors. Not physical pain at least. But Will responded the same way he would if Data were human.

“You’re doing great, Data,” he said with a smile. “Better than I would be.”

“That’s not a lie,” Beverly quipped, as she disconnected the green wire.

Will turned to her with a look of surprise. But really he was just happy. Happy that Data was awake. Happy Beverly was making jokes, even if they were at his expense. Happy it didn’t feel like the world was spinning around him.

Beverly closed up his arm unit, and suddenly Will was overcome with the sense that everything was going to be alright. Data looked almost completely human now that his metallic frame wasn’t exposed. Beside the antivirus connected to the port in his head, the only things still connected were the electrodes on his chest, which were only stuck on the surface of his bare, pale skin, and the wire running into the vein in the back of his right hand. He wasn’t completely back to normal; no. But he was on the mend, and now he looked the part. Not a machine with a virus, but a person in recovery.

“The antivirus software is just about done,” Geordi announced, reading the monitor carefully. Slowly, he started to raise his hands off of Data’s face. “Don’t move until I disconnect this.”

Data blinked to show his understanding. Will kept a tight hold of his hand, as Geordi went to pry the connecting wire out of his head. He felt a tight squeeze on his fingers as the wire was disconnected. But by the time Geordi placed it and the dangling antivirus disk aside, Data had calmed again.

Smoothing down the hair on Data’s re-connected head unit, Geordi gave him a warm smile. “You can move your head now. But not anything else.”

“Can he talk?” Will asked.

“As long as he doesn’t say anything rude,” Geordi said with a laugh. 

It felt so good to hear laughter on a day like this. Better than usual. Much better than the silence, or beeping monitors, or shouting that had filled sickbay all afternoon.

Will, Beverly, and Geordi each turned to Data, waiting for him to speak. He looked from one to the other to the other, his eyes wide and full of life. Ultimately, he quirked his lip into an uncomfortable smile.

“I...do not know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Will replied with a shake of the head. He squeezed Data’s hand with both of his own. “But I’ll say: I’m very glad that you’re alright.”

“Hear hear,” Beverly murmured with a tired smile.

Geordi squeezed Data’s shoulder, well away from the electrodes still connected to his upper chest. He wore a sharp frown, his voice tight in his throat. “You gave us a real scare today.”

“Even more than usual,” Beverly added.

Data’s eyes softened. He looked at each of them again. Will, staring at their intertwined hands. Geordi, examining him with his VISOR. Beverly, sitting on the edge of the bed next to his feet. 

“I apologize for causing you fear,” he said, injecting more emotion than usual into his voice.

Beverly set her hand on his leg, massaging his knee with her thumb.

“You don’t need to apologize for anything, Data. It’s my job as CMO to keep you all safe. And it’s our job as your friend to worry about you.”

“What is my job right now, doctor?” Data asked, his eyelids fluttering.

Geordi squeezed his shoulder. “Right now, your job is to rest.”

“Rest?”

“Yes,” Beverly agreed. “I can’t take out the other wires until your thermoregulation’s back to normal, and that’ll be hours. And...honestly Data, you look like you could use some rest.”

“I do not require rest.”

Will quirked an eyebrow at him.

“You need to conserve your energy as much as any of us,” he remarked. 

“And right now,” Beverly added, adjusting his blanket to cover his torso, “you need to replenish your energy levels. And the best way to do that is to enter your dream program.”

Data calculated their words for a moment, and then tilted his head with a sleepy smile.

“That is logical,” he slurred.

Will felt Data’s hand go limp in his own as his eyelids closed and his head lolled on the pillow. Gently, he set Data’s hand on the bed and extracted it from his own. When he stood, he did so as noiselessly as possible. Geordi followed suit, until they were standing on either side of Beverly at the foot of the bed, staring at Data’s sleeping form.

“Well, boys,” Beverly said, throwing her arms on both of their shoulders. “I’m going to sleep for the next few years.”

Geordi spun around before she could leave. “Is he okay on his own?”

Beverly offered them both a comforting smile.

“He’s fine. The monitors will alert me if anything happens, and I’ll have one of my nurses check him every half hour. Now,” she leaned toward both of them with a close eye, “go rest.”

As soon as Beverly was out of the room, Geordi turned to Will. His expression was almost unreadable; not quite happy, but surely relieved. 

“We better do as she says,” he murmured.

Neither of them made a move to do so. For a long moment they just stared into nothingness. Then, Will seemed to come back to life. He took in a deeper breath and shook his head out.

“I’ll be in my quarters,” he said, starting out the door. 

Geordi nodded, but didn’t move. 

“Geordi?” Will asked. He came to a stop and turned around. “You should go to your own quarters, too. You’ll never get to sleep in here.”

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep anywhere,” Geordi admitted.

Will frowned, but he understood perfectly. God only knew how little he wanted to go to sleep, even though his body was crying out for it. Something about lying alone in the dark just didn’t appeal to him right now. Not before Data was awake. Not when his adrenaline hadn’t quite run its course through his veins.

But these thoughts wouldn’t do. Will was a Commanding Officer, and he knew better than to trust his feelings when the facts clearly told him otherwise. He needed sleep. And laying in bed, even with his eyes open and mind racing, would be better for him than sitting here all night worrying. His body needed rest. And more importantly, Geordi’s body needed rest.

“Come on,” Will said, forcing himself and Geordi out of the room. “We’ll go feed Spot, and then both of us are going to our quarters.”

Geordi smiled at that; nothing substantial, just a quirk of the lip. But it was a start.

. . . . . . . . . . .

The hallway outside of Sickbay the next morning looked more like the line for Ten Forward at opening hours. Officers from nearly every department stood crowded around the doors. Some of them held flowers, while others held chocolates. 

Geordi couldn’t help but smile at the scene. All of these people, here for Data. For a long time, at the very beginning, Geordi worried that he was the only one who really saw Data as...well, an equal. As complicated and as valuable as a human being. But this display removed those worries once and for all.

“Geordi!” Will called, maneuvering around a few of the botanists and their enormous bouquets. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

“Me?” Geordi noticed Beverly at the door to Sickbay. She seemed happy, if a bit annoyed right now.

“Senior officers,” Beverly said to the crowd, “can come in. But only senior officers. The rest of you are just going to have to wait.” She gave them a smile to let them know she wasn’t angry; just overwhelmed.

Geordi and Will pushed forward until they reached the vestibule of Sickbay. There they found Captain Picard, Worf, and Deanna. Beverly entered after them, and shut the door to the corridor with a sigh.

“Okay,” she said, adjusting her coat. “Let’s go. But no questions, no mission reports, and you all have to leave as soon as I tell you.”

“Yes ma’am,” Picard said with a smirk.

Beverly nudged his arm, and then opened the door.

“Surprise!” They shouted in unison once they’d entered Data’s room. 

Data’s eyes widened, as his head tilted back and forth to see them all. 

“Good morning,” he said in his politest tone. 

“It is a good morning indeed,” said Picard. He took a breath and then forced himself forward. It was obvious that he felt uncomfortable in this hospital-like setting. But he made no mention of it. “We’re glad to see that you’re alright, Data.”

“I am also...relieved, to be functioning normally again.”

Geordi sat on the side of his bed and looked him over. He was still connected to one of the monitors through the wire into his hand. But he’d finally been given a blue Sickbay shirt and he was allowed to sit up. 

Deanna approached the bed on the opposite side and took hold of his free hand. “The whole crew’s been worried about you. I’ve never felt everyone so concerned.”

Data’s golden lips tilted downward, as did his eyes.

“I apologize for-”

“Stop apologizing,” Will laughed. “We’re not trying to make you feel guilty.”

Deanna squeezed his hand. “We just want you to know that we all care about you.”

“Ah. Thank you, Counselor.”

“Commander,” Worf said, suddenly brandishing a box. “We have brought you a gift. It is from the seven of us. Though, you do have more gifts waiting outside.”

“A lot of gifts,” Will commented.

Data took the box and examined it. It was metallic all the way around; something similar to duranium. 

“Worf did the wrapping,” Geordi said. 

“Thank you, Worf.” Data did not seem to understand the humor. He carefully pried open the doors of the box, and then reached in and pulled out its contents. “It is a Holo Image.”

“Turn it on!” Beverly encouraged.

Data pressed the on-switch and the Holo Image came to life. It was Spot, playing with a dangling string. She batted it, then spun a circle and jumped high in the air.

“Thank you all,” Data said softly. Then he fell silent, enraptured by the moving picture.

Beverly looked around the room, and then at the clock. Picard followed her gaze and met her eyes with a grimace. He patted Data on the shoulder and then turned to his crew.

“We’d all better get to the bridge. Have a swift recovery, Data. We’re all glad that you’re alright.”

“Thank you, Captain.” Data looked over his Holo Image and offered them each a smile.

The officers each bid him goodbye, and exited the room. Only Geordi remained, sitting on the edge of the bed with his VISOR staring at an indeterminate point on the opposite wall. Data watched him for a moment, and then turned off his Holo Image.

“Are you not leaving?”

Geordi snapped out of his daze and turned to Data.

“Not yet. My shift doesn’t start for another hour. If...if that’s alright with you.”

“Of course.” Data set his toy in its box again, and then placed it on the side table. 

They sat in silence for a long minute, as Geordi chewed his bottom lip. There was so much he wanted to say; he’d been practicing all morning. But now that he was here and Data was here and everyone else was gone...he just didn’t have the words anymore.

“Data,” he choked out, then shut his mouth again. He reached out and took hold of Data’s leg; something to anchor himself. “I don’t even know what to say.”

Data tilted his head.

“I admit that I also am ‘at a loss for words’. But Geordi,” Data met his gaze and held it. “I want to thank you all for treating me as you would a human. It is strange, but I find a certain...pleasure, in being a patient in Sickbay.”

Geordi smiled, feeling some of the tension wash away. “It’s probably better than sitting on a table in Engineering.”

“Yes,” Data said. “Though I do enjoy spending time with you during repairs, it is…”

“Dehumanizing,” Geordi finished.

Data gave him a curious look. “Yes, he breathed. I believe that is the correct word.”

Geordi gave him another smile and then forced himself up off the bed.

“I’d better let you sleep. Bev won’t be happy if I keep you up all day. Your energy levels are still lower than usual.”

“Please,” Data interrupted. His voice was needier than usual. “Do not leave on my account.”

Geordi sat back on the bed and took hold of Data’s hand, careful to avoid the wire still connected there.

“Okay, Data. I’ll stay as long as you want me.”

Data smiled one of his almost-imperceptible smiles and relaxed into his pillow. 

“Thank you, Geordi.”

“Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for your support so far. please feel free to leave a comment if you enjoyed the fic! I always love hearing from you all.


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